**Chapter 5** "What do you mean by that?" Adam's teeth ground together, frustration coursing through him like a storm ready to erupt. Celine's gaze shot back at him, sharp and unyielding. "You better explain yourself, Adam Alvarez!" His eyes flicked to her attire, the provocative short dress that she wore with a casual confidence. "Your thighs are practically on display. Is this really how desperate you are for attention?" The words tumbled out, harsh yet laced with an undeniable tension. Celine had, after all, chosen this ensemble; she'd once playfully declared, "Tonight, let’s show everyone who really has the best legs in Mercity." An eyebrow arched defiantly, Celine remarked, "Seems like you were looking, Mr. Alvarez." She leaned back against the wall, exuding a lazy elegance that held a certain allure. Slowly, she lifted her right leg, teasingly resting her crystal heel against his ankle. Adam stood rigid, clad in tailored black slacks that accentuated his tall, lean frame, radiating an air of cold sophistication. Celine's touch traveled from his ankle upward, deliberate in its sensuality—a seduction laced with provocation. "What are you doing?" Adam’s voice was a thin line of restraint. "Tell me, Mr. Alvarez," Celine’s voice dropped to a sultry whisper, “whose legs do you prefer? Mine or Carly’s?" His gaze lingered on her, mesmerized by the delicate features of her face, glowing with an ethereal quality. She was breathtaking—a striking angel in a human form, yet here she was, challenging him, pushing his buttons. Adam had been blind to her beauty the night before, hidden behind those black-framed glasses, but now it was impossible to overlook. Yet amidst the allure, an unsettling familiarity tugged at him. Celine's bright eyes sparkled mischievously as she broke the tension. “Has Carly ever tried to seduce you with her legs, Adam?” His breath hitched, and he leaned in closer, a frown creeping across his face. “Celine, are you really this obsessed? You think of nothing but men all day, yet you've hired eight escorts?” He deftly sidestepped answering her question about Carly, a silent agreement to protect the woman he'd once cherished. Their relationship had been a grand romance, one that had painted their youthful days with vibrant colors. Yet, looking back, he felt the shadows creeping in—Carly had once seduced him in ways he still found impossible to articulate. Celine was, in her own way, exquisite, but her smile couldn’t mask the ice frozen in her gaze. "Yes, Mr. Alvarez, there's a problem with your manhood. Since you can't satisfy me, I guess I’ll just find someone else who can. Let’s get this divorce rolling. If one man doesn’t work, I'll find another," she declared, her words filled with cold audacity. The sheer nerve of her statement sent a spark of incredulous anger through him. "Is that what this is? Some elaborate ploy? Do you crave validation that much, Celine?" She fell silent, a myriad of emotions flickering across her face. Adam leaned in, their lips perilously close, yet his voice remained eerily detached. "Don't kid yourself, Celine. I’ll never touch you." The name slipped between them like a shard of glass—Carly. No need for further elaboration; the implication was crystal clear. Celine, though stung, surprised herself by the intensity of her feelings. It wasn’t sharp pain but a dull ache that spread through her body, relentless and suffocating. At that moment, the air shifted dramatically as the unmistakable voice of Carly rang through the space. “Adam!” He turned, the sight of Carly—often dubbed the ‘Scarlet Rose of Mercity’—drawing him in like a moth to flame. She radiated beauty, her lips perfectly painted, her smile lighting up the dim corridor. Years of dance had bestowed upon her a graceful, fluid poise. Instinctively, he released Celine, striding toward Carly, his demeanor transforming as he met her gaze—a warmth spilling from him that Celine had never seen. “You’re Carly,” he said, glancing back at Celine as if she were an afterthought. “And this is…?” Carly examined Celine with cool indifference. “Who are you?” she questioned, a brow quirked in mild curiosity. Celine remained quiet, knowing the embedded history that Carly had long since forgotten. The truth, however, twisted painfully beneath the surface—she wasn’t just the unloved stepsister but rather a figure steeped in shadow in Carly’s glamorous world. In her mind, Celine replayed the fragments of her past. Once upon a time, she had a family, led by her father, Aaron Tate, whose love was unwavering. She could still remember him lifting her into the air, whispering, “My little Celine is going to grow up so happy.” Then everything broke apart. After Aaron's abrupt absence, her new family—Hayden and his daughter, Carly—invaded her world, pushing Celine into the shadows. Her mother, Lacy Garcia, became Carly's mother too, and suddenly, all affection seemed aimed solely at the golden child. As Carly soared in academics, Celine found herself punished for mere existence. Lacy would scold her, “Why can’t you let Carly shine? Do you always have to outdo her?” For years, Celine stood at the periphery, watching a family she longed to be part of, only to be met with rejection. Night after night, laughter would spill from the gravely close huddle of Lacy, Hayden, and Carly, while Celine clutched the doll her father had bought her, tears streaming down her face, fear gnawing at her heart. The day Lacy had driven Celine to the countryside, dumping her like a forgotten toy, was etched in her memory—the panic, the despair as she chased the car, begging, “Don’t leave me, Mommy! I’ll be good! I’ll let Carly have everything!” She had fallen into the mud, watching that car vanish as it carried away the only semblance of belonging she’d ever known. Celine could never forget Carly. Benjamin, a voice of reason amidst the chaos, broke through the memories. “That’s your sister. She’s Celine!” Carly stepped back, disbelief washing over her. “You’re… Celine?” The realization seemed to click in slowly, her mind struggling against memories that had faded, but the disdain remained sharp. “Well,” Carly's tone shifted, a conceited edge sharpening her words. “I didn’t expect you to doll yourself up like me.” Celine met her sister’s gaze, calm on the surface yet trembling beneath, a blend of old wounds surfacing. "That’s fine," she thought, unwilling to let show the anger bubbling just beneath her composed facade. After all, Carly could think whatever she wanted as long as it made her happy. Standing there, Celine straightened her slender back, a subtle smile gracing her lips, unflinching under the corridor lights that illuminated her delicate features. No longer the same vulnerable girl from before. But Carly wasn’t finished. "I heard you and Adam are getting a divorce. Can’t survive without a man, huh? Resorting to male escorts to fill the void? If I were you, I’d just get a job." With a glance back at Adam, she continued, condescension dripping from her words, "Adam, Celine has taken care of you for so long. You should at least help her find work. Maybe as a housekeeper?" Adam's eyes flickered towards Celine, irritation evident, while Benjamin interjected on her behalf. “Carly, every job requires qualifications. What’s Celine’s education level?” Carly’s eyes glinted, mischief dancing in her gaze. “Oh, I remember now. She dropped out of school when she was sixteen.” And with that last sting, the tension in the room thickened, ready to burst.